The hall to the west branched off toward the Elders' living quarters. The hall to the right went to a secluded open-air meditation courtyard.

This center gallery was where it got freaky. After his first-and heretofore only-Temple break-in, he was prepared. His men weren't.

He looked at them with an arched brow, silently admonishing them to heed his earlier command. They nodded grimly, and Connor continued on.

As they walked, a vibration beneath their feet drew everyone's attention to the floor. The stone shimmered and became translucent, creating the impression that the ground had disintegrated and they were about to fall into an endless blanket of stars. He groped for the wall by instinct, his teeth gritted together, then the view of space melted into a swirling kaleidoscope of colors.

"Fuck me," Wager breathed.

Connor had said the exact same thing the first time he'd walked this corridor. Every step created ripples in the colors, suggesting that whatever it was responded to their presence.

"Is that real?" Corporal Trent whispered fiercely. "Or a hologram of some sort?"

Lifting his hand, Connor reminded the men to keep their silence. He had no idea what the damn thing was. He knew only that he couldn't look at it or vertigo would make him sick.

They moved past the private Elder library to reach the control room. There was one Elder there, a lone sentinel lost within a vast space dominated by high walls lined with bound volumes and a large console. As was the custom of the Elders, he'd been left behind when the others retired for the afternoon, which made him the unfortunate recipient of a tranq dart to the neck. Connor dragged his unconscious body aside to give Wager access to the crescent-shaped touchpad control panel.

"I'll loop the vids so you're not recorded," the lieutenant said.

Wager stepped up and began to work, his posture straight and legs slightly parted, firmly entrenched in his assignment.